


I can't give you what you want... but I can try...

by Pastache



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6767143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastache/pseuds/Pastache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I went over to your room because you were blasting music to find you lying in a pile of pillows sobbing and listening to some love song and now I don’t know what to do” AU<br/>(I blame abbys-jam-juggler entirely)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't give you what you want... but I can try...

Downton had finally gotten a gramophone in the servant’s hall- much to the delight of the servants, and to the displeasure of both Mr. Carson (“What kind of a world _do_ we live in- what will they think of next, personal telephones?”) and Jimmy. Carson was displeased because he was old, and Jimmy was because he didn’t want his piano playing interrupted _, thank you very much_ , but Jimmy’s dissatisfaction didn’t last very long because one day it was ‘sent off for repairs’ (despite no one yet daring to use it and be the first to break the peace), and never returned. Carson humphed ‘good riddance’ and the matter was dropped- so were the spirits of Daisy and Alfred for the next few days.

 

On a completely _unrelated_ note; Thomas had a record collection. Well, he bought a record once and then after the gramophone’s… _disappearance_ … he started buying more. It was something of a comfort; music understood Thomas in a way no one else bothered to try. Well, except for Jimmy, but Jimmy could never- that is, Thomas could never talk to him about _those_ things. His only friend in the world and he couldn’t tell him what was wrong, talk about the men he wanted, the dark nights he’d adventured- put a friendly hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, even. _What kind of friendship was that?_

 

It wasn’t one Thomas would change for the world- without Jimmy he’d be lost and not _only_ because he was the most beautiful man Thomas had ever laid eyes on. He could still remember how he’d felt when Jimmy had come into his room, so calm and so nervous, and told him, kindly, that even though he didn’t like him in _that_ way he still wanted to be _friends_. Friends! And they _had_ been friends- Jimmy and Thomas were as thick as thieves, one was never seen without the other and Jimmy seemed to have forgotten all about the past between them.

 

So why did it hurt so much?

 

Thomas sighed.

 

It was his half day, but Jimmy had had to switch with Alfred, who begged him to let him have _one_ half day with Ivy. At least it had kept hostilities between them low, but now Thomas was on his own in his room during his time off, for the first time in months and he was _sad_. He’d dragged his chair to the other side of the room, and was smoking a cigarette and scowling at the world. Being around Jimmy so much hurt like overstimulation, like frustration- a similar feeling to wanting to share a terrible secret but without the relief of spitting it out; it was hot in his chest. At least playing cards or sniggering or playing piano he never had to dwell in the awful realization that Jimmy would never love him, could never, and one day he’d have to smile and watch him go on about some stupid, ordinary, ill-suited girl and every day that that drew closer felt like a needle twitch under his skin.

 

Thomas frowned. He didn’t usually get lost in melancholy like this, but recently… he dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the promising call of the whiskey bottle under his bed (dipped into on lonely nights all too often as of late) and stubbed his smoke in the ashtray on the windowsill. The room was a haze, smelt of stale cigarettes already, and Thomas hummed as he flicked through the shelf of records he’d collected to find one to play on the ~~stolen~~ _borrowed_ gramophone.

 

_“Love, your magic spell is everywhere,_

_Love, I knew you well and found you fair,_

_Then you left me and I laughed at fate,_

_Now I ask is it too late?”_

Thomas felt a tightness in his chest and cleared his throat, surprising himself. Usually he just thought downhearted things, he never _cried_ … not that he was _going_ to cry...

He sat in the chair again and Jimmy’s face danced tauntingly behind his eyes.

_“Love, your melody is in the air,_

_Yet I call you and you are not there,_

_Come, here is my heart, my soul to mate,_

_Make me forget the voice that whispers ‘wait’.”_

 

All of a sudden Thomas’ eyes were stinging.

            “You soppy idiot.” He said quietly, rubbing his eyes furiously, but he suddenly didn’t have the strength to resist. He’d always been a crier, one of the many things that didn’t match his overtly masculine stature, and his shoulders shook as he squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, hands in his lap like a dejected schoolboy as tears started to roll down his cheeks. He tried to tell himself what a fool he was, to be crying like a young maid over some boy, but he couldn’t get the words out, his throat felt too tight, so he just took a few shuddering breaths and let the music fuel his outpour, giving in to it.

 

Jimmy hopped up the stairs two at a time, buzzing with the excitement that always followed an early evening off- and he still had his half-day to look forward to! Today was a good day. He didn’t hesitate in striding to Thomas’ door, hadn’t hesitated in months now, and paused with his hand on the doorknob as he heard… what was that, _music_?

 

_“Just friends, lovers no more_

_Just friends but not like before_

_To think of what we've been_

_And not to kiss again”_

Jimmy frowned at the door like it had personally insulted him. _How? Oh right, that’s where the gramophone went… Thomas might’ve just asked me to play something…._ Not that he knew Jimmy would be about for the next few hours… and the rest were downstairs chattering still…

 

_“Seems like pretending_

_It isn't the ending_

_Two friends drifting apart_

_Two friends but one broken heart”_

Jimmy swallowed, trying not to hear the words- _he’s just in a sad mood- makes sense, he’s always so bloody moody- no need to read into it._

            “Thomas?” He’d _never_ announced his arrival- he’d stopped knocking on the door weeks ago; the idea Thomas would be doing anything so private he wouldn’t do it with Jimmy utterly absurd. Yet here he timidly knocked.

            He heard the sound of someone scrabbling to their feet and Thomas’ strained voice,

            “One moment!”

            The music stopped. Jimmy regarded the door warily.

            When the door opened Jimmy’s beaming smile, the one he only let Thomas see, faded on his face. Thomas’ eyes were _red_ , his mouth pulled into a pout, his shoulders and arms tensed- that was all _wrong_.

            “Oh. Hello Jimmy.” As if he hadn’t known it were him- and Thomas’ voice sounded like shite, too.

            “Thomas? What’s the matter- you haven’t been” he couldn’t even say ‘ _crying_ ’ out loud, “… I mean, have you?”

            “Don’t be daft. Doin’ some cleanin’ must have got dust about or somethin’.” Even Thomas could tell that was a weak excuse, but still he blocked Jimmy from further entry with his body pressed against the crack in the door.

            “Anyway ‘m not feelin’ very well, so I think I’ll jus’ turn in now- g’night Jimmy.” And shut the door firmly in his face.

            Jimmy stood, staring at the place where his friend had just been. First he scowled, annoyed Thomas had taken it upon himself to ruin his good day, but then his conscious got the better of him and he felt _bad_ for Thomas. Obviously he’d been crying, but what about? He’d seen him at luncheon, they’d played cards- he’d been completely fine then. The thought of someone- Alfred- Ivy- Mr. Bates- saying anything to upset Thomas like this had Jimmy clenching his fists. _If they said anything about him I’ll bloody kill them_ he promised the door as he turned and stalked to his room. He sat on his bed, at a loose end for the first time in weeks.

 

_What to do? **Well the right thing to do is to go and talk to your friend you daft prick.** Nah- he probably wants to be alone- no man likes to be watched as he cries- what would you **do** , anyway? Sit there awkwardly and make stupid jokes- make a fool out of yourself, no doubt._

            Jimmy sighed. He was no good at this _emotional_ stuff, and wondered unkindly if Thomas was so emotional because of the ‘way’ he was. _He likes blokes like women are supposed to- maybe he feels the same way they do about other things too- maybe that’s **why** he’s…_ Jimmy shook his head. He’d accepted how Thomas was long ago. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear Thomas talk about some bloke he fancied having yet, but he wished Thomas would try at least- it felt odd not to talk about that sort of thing with his best and only friend. _He has to put up with my stories of any pretty girl I see_ … Jimmy realized he’d been pacing the room and forced himself to sit again. His knee jogged-

            _Why can’t Thomas be like me? Not interested- I’m all the better for it- nothing can **touch** me._

A thought occurred that twisted Jimmy’s stomach. _What if he’s cryin’ over **me**? _

Jimmy shook his head- the thought was absurd- _that_ was all behind them now, they’d been friends for months and Thomas hadn’t so much as hinted at anything improper.

Suddenly, vivid images of the far off looks, quickly dropped smiles, and sudden turning aways visited Jimmy’s mind. He swallowed.

            _Why do you always have to make everything so bloody difficult, Mr. Barrow?_

 

He crept, shoes off, up the hallway, and listened very carefully at Thomas’ door. The faintest sounds came through, and Jimmy had to press his ear to the crack between door and wall to make the words of the song out,

 

_“I'm just a lonely romancer_

_Right at the end of my rope_

_Though I've had your answer_

_I can't give up hope”_

Jimmy swallowed and looked to the door as if it were Thomas standing in front of him. _Might not be me, though- might just be the music- or some other bloke- an’ he won’t talk to me about him so he’s pining on his own-_

_“I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me_

_That's why I'm bluer than blue_

_Wasting my time, wasting my love on you_

_Just you”_

Jimmy’s heart was beating loudly in his ears and he cursed Thomas silently. _Damn your sappy love-torn heart, I didn’t ask you to be in love with me- I’m not worth your love, you moron._ Still- In some way he was comforted by the fact (and yes, perhaps he had been more aware of it than he’d pretended) that Thomas didn’t just _lust_ after him. It made it better, somehow.

_“If I could forget your kiss_

_I'd dismiss you from my memory_

_But the rapture of your charms_

_And those arms that used to thrill, haunt me still”_

Jimmy had had enough- without waiting or knocking he threw Thomas’ door open in time to see his friend hunched over, sitting on the floor next to the gramophone, head between his knees. At the sound of the door he jerked his head up, banging on the wall in his panic, and jumped to his feet, fumbling at the gramophone with his back to Jimmy- trying to _stop_ the music- and scrubbing at his eyes with his free hand.

            “G-go away Jimmy- I want to be _alone_ right now.”

            “Thomas-” Jimmy stepped towards him and Thomas whirled around- his eyes still streaming despite his frantic wiping, and for the first time since _that night_ he put his hands on Jimmy- his shoulders, pushing him out of the door,

            “I said _go away,_ Jimmy-”

            Jimmy had the strangest feeling of reverse déjà vu, and he pushed Thomas’ arms away,

            “No- I’m not goin’ anywhere- you’re _upset_.”

            “No I’m _not_.” Thomas spun back around and went to stand by his desk, facing away from Jimmy once again.

            Jimmy shut the door and approached Thomas’ back carefully.

            “Thomas- what’s the _matter_? I’m your friend- your _best friend_ , y’can tell me anythin’.”

            Thomas had actually been about to collect himself, but the presence of someone- the presence of _Jimmy-_ brought fresh tears to his eyes and he was miserably humiliated as he choked and tried not to let on to Jimmy that he was crying still.

            “ _Nothin’_ ” and that came out so strangled he had to try again, and managed on the third try to stop his voice breaking, “Nothin’s the matter Jimmy- _please_.” His voice actually sounded like a whimper. _Pathetic_. He fumbled for a cigarette, but his hands were shaking so much he dropped it, and couldn’t get the lighter to fire, so he gave up and pressed his fists into the desk, trying unsuccessfully to blink away the tears on his face.

            Jimmy was frozen to the spot, his voice felt choked like _he_ were the one crying, as he watched Thomas _sobbing_ in front of him… he felt awkward and nervous, took a small step towards him, reaching his arm up… but he changed his mind and decided not to touch his shoulder at the last moment, and so just cleared his throat nervously.

            “I’m _sorry-_ ’m sorry Jimmy- I’m a mess- I shouldn’t be _bawling_ \- in-in front of you like this. Please jus’- please give me a moment- I’m _alright I’m alright_.” He didn’t even sound like he was convincing himself.

            Jimmy frowned to himself. _Stop being so bloody useless he’s your friend and he’s so upset he can’t help himself- you interrupted- you came in here… bloody do something about it_.

            “Thomas stop- please- there’s no need to… to do this.” He put a hand on Thomas’ shoulder and felt guilty when Thomas tensed and then put his head in his hands, obviously straining with the effort to try and control himself.

            “Do I really make you so unhappy?” Jimmy half-whispered without meaning to and took his hand off Thomas’ shoulder- he didn’t seem to be able to bear it. A moment of dreadful silence later,

            “Not everythin’ I do it about you, ya know.” Came Thomas’ low voice, but there was at least half a smile in there too, so Jimmy shrugged,

            “If you say so.”

Thomas wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, pulled out his handkerchief, and cleaned himself up, still facing away.

            Jimmy awkwardly went and perched on the edge of Thomas’ bed- the chair was too far away to be sociable- and watched Thomas, hands clasped in front of him, elbows on his knees. His heart was still thudding in his chest and when Thomas finally turned around he looked dreadful. Though he ran a hand through his hair, strands still fell forward across his forehead, and his eyes were puffy and red, a slight pout still evident.

            “You look a right mess.” Jimmy said lightly.

            Thomas scoffed, “If y’just came in here to insult me- the door’s over there.”

            Jimmy shook his head and patted the bed beside him. “C’mere and tell Uncle Jimmy what’s botherin’ you.”

            “What’s botherin’ me is why some small blond intruder is callin’ himself my uncle.” Thomas muttered and sat cautiously beside Jimmy- careful so that they weren’t touching, and moved his arms from being crossed to being clasped in a similar position to Jimmy, who snorted at Thomas’ comment.

            “Well y’have to tell me sooner or later- so save me the trouble of wheedlin’ it out of you.” His tone finally found a serious edge, “Thomas- if someone’s _said_ something to you- jus’ tell me who they are an’ I’ll-”

            Thomas shook his head, thinking about the bottle under his bed, “No- it wasn’t anyone’s fault but my stupid self- I ‘ppreciate the offer though.”

            Thomas wouldn’t meet Jimmy’s eye. Growing steadily more uncomfortable, Jimmy cleared his throat and looked straight at the floor.

            “Thomas I’m not an idiot, y’know.”

            “I never- Jimmy I’m not _lyin’_ \- no one’s said-”

            “No, what I mean is- I was listenin’ to the music y’were playin’.”

            Thomas shifted- _honestly, for someone with a reputation for deceit, y’don’t half have the worst poker face_. Jimmy took a breath. “You can tell me, y’know. I mean it when I say you’re my best mate- and I wanna know about anythin’ that upsets you even if- even if it’s _me_.”

            Thomas chewed his lip for a moment, swallowed and shrugged. “Jimmy… I… I…” He shrugged again, “y’know what I feel for you. _And_ before you say anythin’ back- I _know_ y’can’t… feel _that_ way back. I understand- I _promise_ I do- but I- I can’t help how I feel- I mean- you’re my friend, Jimmy, my best friend, even, and please don’t think I’d ever do anythin’ to _compromise_ that- and I swear I’m not just… just…”

            “Desperate to get in my trousers?” Jimmy offered, surprised at how easy he found it to joke about it; a month ago it would have been unimaginable.

            Thomas, for his part, went crimson. “Uh… yes. Yes that’s it. I mean, I don’t want that from you- it’s not like that-”

            Jimmy, for once in his life, knew when to keep his mouth shut, and let Thomas speak, only nodding slowly to encourage him, letting him know it was _alright_ this is what he wanted to hear- he _wanted_ Thomas to tell him the truth- really trust him so Jimmy could show Thomas that he really trusted him, too.

            “I just… an’ I’m not usually like this- I didn’t think you’d be back until late and I got to thinkin’ stupid things an’… it’s alright, it really is, I wouldn’t want anythin’ to change between us, Jimmy- cos I- I… I _care_ about you- but not… I mean- you’re my only friend, and I jus’…” he swallowed and Jimmy nodded again, “I jus’ feel bad about how I am, sometimes, an’ when I’m alone…” he shifted again. “Well. Y’know. ‘s fine, honestly, it is.”

            He seemed to run out of steam and looked at Jimmy- looked so bloody nervous and Jimmy, not for the first time, felt guilty about how he’d behaved in the past.  He smiled reassuringly,

            “I understand- well, I mean, obviously, I can’t _understand_ exactly, but I’m glad you told me- I really am. And see, I didn’t faint or have a fit- I can handle your… ‘difficult’ things, promise.” He swayed and nudged Thomas with his shoulder, quite desperate to cheer him up, and see the smile Thomas only smiled for Jimmy. Thomas only looked at his hands and nodded.

            “Thank you, Jimmy. I appreciate it. Sorry for bein’ a wet blanket earlier.” He looked embarrassed, guilty even- Jimmy’s stomach clenched and his smile dropped.

            “It can’t be that bad, can it? Feelin’ those things for me?” He felt fidgety and upset that Thomas was making himself so sad over something so trivial, “I’m not worth all that, Thomas, an’ you know how much I love me, so that’s sayin’ something.” He was no good at this comfort thing. Thomas just shrugged and looked up, met Jimmy’s eye and looked back at the floor with a small, sharp intake of breath.

            “Oh chrissake Thomas, I can’t stand this- you’re making me all upset too, see?” He pointed a hand to his frowning mouth, before realizing that was not the most appropriate thing to do, and changed tact. _Alright then, Mr. Barrow, prepare yourself because this isn’t becoming a regular thing…_

            “’m sorry Jimmy- I do appreciate you talkin’ and listenin’ to me, I do feel much better, I guess I’m jus’ not quite in a jokin’ mood.”

            Jimmy took a breath. “Look, if it means this much to you, I’ll give you a kiss.”

            Thomas _froze_.

Jimmy panicked he’d said the wrong thing, “I mean- I’m no good at kissin’ blokes, right? Cos I won’t enjoy it an’ anyway I’ve never done it- so once I kiss you, you’ll realize what a terrible kisser I am and then you’ll be over me, problem solved.”

            “Jimmy.” Thomas turned away, “Don’t joke about that stuff, alright, ’m sorry I feel the way I do but there’s no need-”

            “I’m not joking, Thomas- I swear- look,” he took the plunge and grabbed Thomas’ arm, could feel him tense under his shirt, “What happened last time-” he was breaking the rules by talking about it but he didn’t care, “that was jus’ cos I’d just arrived and Alfred were there- I’d never have been so angry if I didn’t think he’s scream the house down tellin’ everyone- I thought I’d end up in prison, well, that and,” he chuckled, noticed Thomas had shyly turned his head back to face him, “it was a bloody terrifying thing to wake up to unexpected- no offense.”

            Thomas just nodded, “No I know, I wasn’t fair t’you- but O’Brien-”

            “ _I’m_ telling the story here,” Jimmy said firmly, “Anyway- O’Brien had me so wound up- and she’d gotten you to wind me up so much I… just… _overreacted_. An’ then I saw everyone, even His Lordship defending you and stopping Alfred callin’ the police on you, an’ I realized that maybe Alfred would have just been angry I’d been messin’ Ivy around if we _had_ been… an’ I…” he cleared his throat. _That_ wasn’t something he was ready to tell yet.

            “ _Anyway_ \- what I learnt was- no one much minds what y’do around here as long as you keep it quiet- an’ there’s no one here, an’… Thomas I can’t bear to see you unhappy, I really can’t, so if all it takes is a few seconds of kissing my best mate to cheer him up, then…” Jimmy smiled and clapped his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, ignoring his nerves, “I guess that’s what I’ll have to put up with. Only don’t go makin’ it a regular thing, I don’t want to give you any ideas- this is a one-off.” Too much talking, Thomas had gone silent, cheeks slightly pink.

            “I don’t want- your _pity_ , Jimmy.” He said firmly.

            “No- you daft tart- I don’t _pity_ you- I pity m’self because there’s somethin’ in me that won’t let me see you upset, and I’m not… pity-kissing you, consider it a favour- to make up for how I reacted last time… I really don’t mind, Thomas.”

            Thomas didn’t say anything; he had gone bright red and his hand tapped an erratic rhythm against his thigh. Jimmy swallowed, _now he’ll think you’re a prick **and** an idiot- you owe him this much_ , and moved his hand from Thomas’ arm to his knee. Thomas immediately looked at Jimmy and as he turned his head, preparing to say something else, Jimmy decided _damn it_ and pressed his lips against Thomas'.

            They sat, awkwardly, knees touching, Jimmy with his face screwed up and eyes tightly closed, and _actually it’s not that bad- just like kissing a girl, really_ , as he experimentally moved his lips. For a moment Thomas remained utterly still, like a child caught at something he shouldn’t be doing, but then Jimmy tilted his head slightly and moved his lips more firmly against Thomas’ mouth, chaste movements becoming slower and more meaningful, and Thomas grabbed Jimmy’s shoulders to steady himself. _Nervous, he’s so nervous_ , Jimmy thought and nearly laughed- this was _nothing_ , it was the bare minimum from Jimmy, but Thomas was clutching him and Jimmy felt like a selfish prick for not giving him this tiny happiness sooner- _it costs you nothing you selfish arse, but it means everything to him_.

Jimmy’s arms felt awkward so he brought them to Thomas’ face, cupping his cheeks, trying to somehow communicate how he felt without having to put it into words and Thomas made this tiny _noise_ , like he couldn’t help himself, and pushed closer, lightly moving one of his hands to Jimmy’s waist to pull him nearer, and then to the small of his back and staying there, not to imply any funny business. Jimmy wasn’t _actually_ hating this, at all, really- he couldn’t see it was Thomas on him, and to be fair to him, Thomas was an excellent kisser. Jimmy reckoned he was allowed to think such in an entirely platonic way and then- _woah Thomas that wasn’t part of the plan_ \- Thomas was guiding Jimmy’s mouth open and _yes that’s tongue- Thomas Barrow’s tongue is in my mouth oh God bloody shite_ \- and Jimmy was suddenly aware they’d been kissing for a _long_ time, and pulled back, slowly and uncertainly.

          Thomas immediately withdrew his hands and moved his knee so they were no longer touching, incrimination written all over his features, although his eyes were brighter than stars.

          Jimmy, though he was internally panicking, merely snuck a glance at the door, _still closed_ , and ran a hand through his hair, before sticking his hands against the mattress behind him and leaning back against them,

          “Well if _that_ won’t make you feel better I don’t know what will.” He expected some snarky response, Thomas back to normal, mocking him for thinking his kisses could cure all ills but Thomas was still staring at him, working his jaw like he was remembering how to form sentences. Jimmy flushed and playfully punched his arm,

          “Stop lookin’ at me like I’m the bloody _Messiah_ \- it were only a kiss you idiot.”

          “Jimmy…” Thomas said in a strained tone, but not strained with tears this time, he looked like he couldn’t quite believe he were awake, “… _just_ a kiss?” He could have snorted at Jimmy’s statement to the same effect.

           “Now don’t go gettin’ any ideas, _that_ ’s for emergencies only.” Jimmy folded his arms, feeling a little embarrassed that he’d undone a fully grown man with a few minutes of contact. “I jus’ care about your wellbeing, is all, and it doesn’t cost me to give it to you- as long as that’s it.” Thomas nodded instantly, shaking his head to get himself out of his odd state, and grinning that stupid ‘Jimmy’ grin at him,

            Jimmy rolled his eyes and punched him on the arm again, “besides, you weren’t, y’know, _awful_.”

            Thomas could have cried- in joy this time- _how_ had this happened? Jimmy was on his bed, and he’d been kissing him- his _mouth_ \- Thomas’ entire body was buzzing with feeling, his lips felt like they were fire, and Jimmy- beautiful, beautiful, perfect Jimmy who loved him so dearly, even if it _wasn’t_ in the same way, would do _that_ for him, because he didn’t like seeing Thomas unhappy. Thomas grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pressed a kiss to it- the only sincerely platonic affection he could muster,

            “I’ve never met a man like you, Jimmy- an’ you really are the best friend I’ve ever had, an-’”

            “Stop it, stop it, you’re embarrassin’ me.” Jimmy had, in fact, gone bright red, “what if someone comes up and hears you, you soppy daft prick, give me my hand back.” Thomas immediately let go and retreated to lean back on the bed frame, putting his leg up and leaving one dangling off the edge.

            “D’you really think I’m a good kisser?”

            “Piss off.” Jimmy chuckled,

            “I mean it. Cos if you didn’t mind it…” Thomas looked at him evenly, but there was something far too playful in his eyes, “an’ without pushin’ my luck…”

            “Oh, you’re pushin' it.” Jimmy said, without force.

            “Well the thing is, Jimmy.” Thomas, already restless, had come forward again to sit next to Jimmy on the bed, talking into his ear as Jimmy stared resolutely forward. “I’m feelin’ a little bit of that sadness come creepin’ back to my mind already, an’ if you feel like helping...”

 _This is why you don’t promise things to men of his sort… No._ Jimmy frowned- Thomas wasn’t like that- he hadn’t touched Jimmy, not once, when Jimmy hadn’t made it clear he was allowed- he hadn’t asked for… anything more- and it was _Thomas_. Thomas, who Jimmy cared so much for, who was looking at him powerlessly and who had made his stomach jump when he’d put his tongue…

            “Christ, Thomas, I don’t know.” Suddenly uncomfortable, he scrunched his shoulders and Thomas immediately moved away, sitting back and giving him space.

            “It’s alright you know- not to be… quite one way or the other.” He said slowly.

            “’m not… I’m not confused, Thomas- I know I don’t like _blokes_.”

            “I were only jokin’- you don’t have to kiss me again- an’ I didn’t mean to-”

            “Stop bloody apologizing, it’s fine, alright- you’re my friend, we’re supposed to tease each other…” He frowned.

            “Then what’s wrong?”

            “’m not sure.”

            “Aren’t you?”

            “Yes. No. I’m just trying to… maybe it’s just-” Jimmy wasn’t sure, there was just something that he’d _felt_ when he kissed Thomas- the guilt of knowing he was doing something dangerous, but then making Thomas _helpless_ to him like that… _damn_ _it_.

            “C’mere.”

            Thomas was by his side again almost before the word was fully out of Jimmy’s mouth.

            “Now, look. I don’t know what’s goin’ on- but I want to _try_ somethin’.” He said seriously and Thomas nodded. “Jus’ don’t… move too fast, alright- and _don’t_ get your hopes up- you’re still just my mate, alright?” Thomas nodded and Jimmy grit his teeth.

            _Ok it’s fine, he won’t tell anyone, and you’re just… experimenting. Yeah. It’s normal- everyone must have thought about it **once**._

He inched forward and Thomas’ lips parted slightly, automatically. This time Thomas wasn’t still, but he was slow, and he carefully put his hand to Jimmy’s shoulder as he kissed him, moving gradually so Jimmy could push him away if he wanted. He rubbed soothing circles into Jimmy’s back, and Jimmy scowled,

            “I’m not your bloody pet.”

            “Sorry.”

            The kissing resumed and Jimmy brought his hands to Thomas’ face and sought to open Thomas’ mouth to his, a little, and Thomas made another _noise_ and let Jimmy take control of the kiss- _Jimmy Kent you just put your tongue in another man’s mouth- oh God have mercy on your soul you like it_ , he shuffled closer and Thomas’s hands went one to Jimmy’s shoulder and one to the back of his neck, his thumb resting behind Jimmy’s ear and yes that was _all very nice and good_ and so they sat for a while, kissing like a courting couple left in private, until Jimmy moved back again, slightly breathless, this time pressing his forehead to Thomas’ so he wouldn’t think he’d done something wrong.

            “It’s _good_ Thomas, it’s so good.”

            “Yes?” Thomas was equally breathless, and cupped Jimmy’s cheek in his hand, thumb running lines along his skin gently,

            “Yes- but-” he pulled back a little so he could meet Thomas’ eyes properly, “I don’t think I can… I can do the… you know- the _thing_ … your type do.”

            Thomas shook his head gently, “That’s fine Jimmy- that’s jus’ fine- I’ve got more than I ever thought I would,” he swallowed and looked almost shy for a moment, “thank you.”

            Jimmy snorted, “Don’t thank me, I’m just cheering you up. Besides, I’m jus' using you for my own experimenting anyway.”

            “Glad I could help.”

            “I’m sure you were.”

            They both sniggered.

            Jimmy looked down, just admiring Thomas’ hands, when he glanced at his lap and-

            _Ah_.

            “Thomas…?”

            “Ah. Sorry about that.” Thomas awkwardly crossed his leg. “I- uh- didn’t mean to…”

            “’s fine. You can’t help it.” _Of course_ _he’d have that reaction you’re being an imbecile._

Jimmy let the silence become awkward. _Idiot_.

            Thomas cleared his throat.

            “So…”

            “Yes?”

            “Uh…”

            “Uh, what?”

            “it’s gettin’ late…”

            “You kickin’ me out, after all I’ve done for you?”

“No, no, not at all Jimmy, never, ‘m just sayin’.”

            “Oh.” Jimmy tilted his head. “You want me to leave so you can…”

            “I can…?”

            “Yes.”

            “Guilty as charged.” Thomas threw his hands up and Jimmy snorted,

            “You’re despicable,”

            “What, _hey_ , a man’s got needs, an' all that.”

            “Well how d’you think I feel?”

            “I dunno- you didn’t let me kiss you long enough to get you… ‘ _excited_ ’.”

            “I’m not sure that’s... don’t get me wrong, Thomas, it were all well and good, and you’re a nice kisser, but I jus’ don’t think I’m _that way inclined_.”

            Thomas sucked his teeth, “Hmm, see I dunno, you didn’t give me a very good _try_ …”

            “Is that a challenge, Mr. Barrow?”

            “I think it is, Mr. Kent.”

            _Why are you blushing you madman- you’re just kissing_ , “Alright then, _woo me_.” Jimmy leered and Thomas grabbed Jimmy’s face and pulled him level, kissing him firmly while Jimmy’s hands were left with no choice but to find purchase on Thomas’ waist, and Thomas suddenly moved his mouth to Jimmy’s jaw, and then along his neck, biting him lightly and sucking little red marks (of the very temporary kind) where he could land his mouth,

            “Ah- Thomas- what’re you- what’re you doing- _oh_.” Jimmy’s face felt very hot and he put his hand through the back of Thomas’ hair and swallowed but then Thomas was kissing where his throat bobbed, and stroking his cheek with his thumb and _biting_ \- _ah_.

            Thomas snorted, “You're too easy, I win- what're we betting?”

            “You’re too smug for your own good, Thomas. I mean it.”

            “You don't say?” Thomas pulled away for a moment and looked at Jimmy properly,

            “You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want- the kiss… the kiss was enough for me, Jimmy, really- I couldn’t bear anythin’ at all to be between us.”

            “I’ve already told you I can’t give you what you want- and I mean it.” Jimmy shook his head, “I just… I can’t- do _that_.”

            “Jimmy you keep me happier than any man I’ve had in my bed- though I blush to admit it, an’ you bein’ in my life is enough for me.”

            “Well there’s no need to get _sappy._ ”

            “Shut it.”

            “Why don't you make me?”

            “Don’t tempt me.” Thomas leaned into Jimmy’s personal space, “now I know what you ah- _like_.”

            “Don’t kid yourself, Mr. Barrow.” Jimmy snickered, finally feeling control seep into the situation, “I have complete power over you- even more so now than when you were just pinin' away for my scraps of attention.”

            “You think?”

            “I’ll bring you off with my hand if you fetch me a cigarette.”

            Thomas almost _fell_ off the bed he darted for the desk so quickly, and Jimmy fell about laughing until he was presented with a lit cigarette, fresh from the mouth he had just kissed.

            “Were y’bein’ serious?” Thomas tried not to sound too hopeful.

            “Weeeeell…” Jimmy dragged out the syllables, “I _suppose_ it’s no different than what I do to myself anyway- so it probably wouldn’t _traumatize_ me too badly… alright, alright Thomas, let me finish my cigarette first!” 

**Author's Note:**

> So the music is a.) real songs and b.) a little late, period-wise so we're just gonna pretend that Jimmy never left and the two of them were around at 1930, alright? Good.


End file.
